


Fever Dream

by Rovelae



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Enemies to Friends, M/M, Or rather Enemies to Grudging Respect to Something There That Wasn't There Before, Pre-ship, Same with the Saimota, Slow Burn, The Oumota could be read as platonic, The Saiouma is implied/background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rovelae/pseuds/Rovelae
Summary: “Monokuma’s newest scheme throws the group into chaos! With some of the best players out of commission, can Kaito and Kokichi put their differences aside long enough to get their beloved classmates through the Despair Epidemic in one piece? Find out next time onDanganronpa V3!Puhuhu!”
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi, Momota Kaito/Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 56
Kudos: 432





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for brief suggestiveness, but it’s used more for the sake of humor than anything else.  
> Also, the Monokubs don’t exist in this AU because I don’t like them. :)

The persistent blare of the alarm clock stabbed into his dreams, and he managed to ignore it for a good minute or so before his body decided it was awake after all. With an exaggerated groan, Kokichi dragged himself into a sitting position among the scattered papers on the floor, glaring daggers at the blinking red 7:01 on the other side of the room. When had he dozed off, again? The last time he remembered glancing at the clock, it had read two forty-something, so … at best, that amounted to four hours of sleep?

 _Well, better than last night,_ he told himself, ruffling his hair and stumbling toward the clock.

The beeping stopped and Kokichi’s exhaustion came back in a wave. He leaned both hands on the work desk and let his head hang down, chin resting against his chest and his eyes too heavy to open. If he could manage to think about anything other than his bed only a few steps away … and how warm and soft the covers would be … and how nice it would feel to slip into another dream….

The alarm began shrieking again, so loud and so close to him that Kokichi reeled back with a shriek of his own, slamming his hand down on the clock. It took several tries before the sound stopped, and once it did, Kokichi let out an irritated huff and moved to the shower before he could convince himself otherwise.

His eyes felt sticky, and a half-glance at the mirror told him the bags underneath them were worse than yesterday, so Kokichi turned the water on as cold as he could stand and stood with his head directly in the stream, waiting for his brain to wake up.

_All right, Kokichi, now’s not the time to whine about being tired, now’s the time to focus. What’s on today’s itinerary?_

“Item number one: improve morale,” he muttered. Easy. All he needed was for Kirumi to throw something together, like that pool party a week or two ago. Something casual enough to keep the attention off of him, but spontaneous enough that nobody would have time to plan a murder around it. Maybe a scavenger hunt, maybe a water balloon fight. Sure.

“Item two: covert psych assessments,” he decided, toweling off his hair and hiding the dark circles around his eyes with a few dabs of foundation. A surprising majority of his classmates were handling … everything … about as well as possible, but if his observations were to be believed—and those were about all he could trust in this place—at least a few of them were at risk for mental breakdowns. Namely, Miu, Tenko, Tsumugi, and Shuichi.

_Great, that’s easy, too. Just look interested while Miu drools over her newest toy, let Tenko chase you around for a bit, geek out with Tsumugi about Code Geass, and…._

Hmm, he’d figure Shuichi out later. Shuichi was _always_ difficult.

_Not that that’s a bad thing—_

“Focus,” he reminded himself, tying on his scarf and making his way to the dining hall.

_Item three: maybe sneak into the closed-off labs again? Rantaro’s definitely hiding something. There might be another hidden area in his lab…._

Kokichi opened the cafeteria doors and stopped in his tracks. _Kiibo’s here? Kiibo’s not supposed to be here; he always gets here just before Maki and Kaito—_

The robot turned his pale blue eyes on him and Kokichi reflexively plastered a smile onto his face. _That’s your cue, idiot. Act natural._

“Perfect timing, Kiiboy!” he said. “I’ve got a bunch more robot jokes for you. What do you get when you cross a computer—”

“Please make it stop.”

His voice was so soft that Kokichi almost missed it. “No, wait, this is a good one! What happens when you cross a computer with a shark? _Mega-bites!”_

“Kokichi, please.”

“Okay, fine, so that wasn’t as good as I said it would be, but—”

He faltered when Kiibo lurched forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Please. I’m in pain here.”

Kokichi blinked. “All right, geez, I’ll stop. You don’t need to be dramatic about it. You’re really close,” he added, lightly pushing the robot away.

Kiibo bowed his head, breathing erratically, and the one hand still grasping his arm trembled. “Kokichi, I….”

Kokichi’s unease deepened. “Are… you okay?”

Before Kiibo could respond, the dining hall door burst open again. Kokichi barely managed to step out of the way to avoid Tenko as she dashed into the room, only slowing to a stop once she’d reached the far wall and pressed her back against it, her eyes darting wildly around.

“Tenko!” Kokichi called with a cheery wave. “Where’s the fire?”

“F-f-fire? What fire?” she shrilled, then shook her head frantically. “I didn’t see any fire! That had better be a lie!”

“It’s actually called an idiomatic metaphor?”

“Then—then shut your mouth, you n-noisy degenerate!” Tenko’s eyes widened and she clapped both hands over her mouth. “No! No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, please don’t yell at me!”

Kokichi stared. “What—”

The cafeteria doors swung open again and Kaito barreled through, closely followed by Maki and Rantaro. “Tenko, wait!”

“Don’t come any closer!” Tenko shrieked. “Just leave me alone!”

“Tenko, we’re not going to hurt you,” Rantaro said with his usual eerie calm. “Just listen to us for a minute.”

Kokichi stepped forward to join them, but stopped when Kiibo inexplicably slumped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. _Crap._ Two crises at once.

Another glance in Tenko’s direction; Kokichi decided the others could handle things in the unlikely event that she tried to hurt someone, so he knelt in front of Kiibo instead. “Hey. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t— I— I don’t _know,”_ Kiibo choked. “I-I need help…. I need your help. _Please.”_

“Okay, I’m right here. What do you need?”

Kiibo looked up, desperation shining in his eyes, and half-sobbed, “Kokichi, I need you to kill me.”

Kokichi’s blood turned to ice.

“I didn’t know being alive could hurt this badly.” Kiibo clutched at his chest, fingers clawed, as if trying to tear himself open. “It’s too much. I can’t do it, Kokichi. Please make it stop—”

The _smack_ stung Kokichi’s hand probably as much as it stung Kiibo’s face. Kiibo raised a hand to his cheek, mouth open in a look of dazed betrayal, and Kokichi grabbed him by the shoulders. “Are you insane?” he hissed.

Kiibo whimpered. “Please….”

“Where did this come from all of a sudden?” Kokichi said. “You were fine yesterday and the day before. You’ve been one of the most mentally stable out of any of us. _What happened?”_

“The gorgeous girl genius has arrived!” shouted Miu as she strutted into the cafeteria. “Feast your eyes on—”

“Please be silent.” Kiyo didn’t even look up from the dusty old book he was reading as he brushed past her.

“Um! Good morning, everyone!” Gonta called. “Is everything okay? Gonta saw friends running!”

 _That makes nine out of twelve,_ Kokichi thought. “Miu, get over here.”

“Oh, yeah? Why should—”

“Stop squealing and do as I say, pig.”

“P-pig—!” The inventor’s reaction was immediate. She dropped to the floor and crawled toward him. “What do you w-want with me?”

“Kiibo’s malfunctioning. I want you to figure out what’s wrong with him. Do it now.” Without waiting for a response, he stood and moved toward the circle that was forming around Tenko.

“What’s going on?” Tsumugi peered out from the kitchen doors. “I thought I heard people yelling.”

Why was she in the…? Oh, there was Kirumi just behind her. _She was helping her make breakfast. Okay, nothing weird about that, is there? Eleven out of twelve._

Maki had somehow managed to get close enough to Tenko to kneel beside her. “Tenko? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Immediately it was as if a dam had burst. Tenko sobbed and threw her arms around Maki, tears streaming down her face as she howled, “I don’t know, I don't _know!_ M-my head hurts and everyone h-hates me and I’m so, so scared and I _don’t want to die!”_

“What? Tenko—ow! You’re not going to die!” Maki frowned, returning the hug with one hand and prying Tenko’s arms away from her throat with the other. “Calm down, okay?”

“I can’t,” Tenko gasped. “I’m sorry, I’m … I’m so pathetic, I know—”

“That not true, Tenko!” Gonta exclaimed, and she whimpered at the sound of his voice. “Gonta think Tenko smart and strong, and….”

Kokichi backed away from the group, his mind racing. An anxiety attack? No, she wouldn’t be able to talk much. Some kind of phobia? No, not without anything to trigger it. Post-traumatic stress? No, she probably would have manifested symptoms long ago….

And he had to worry about Kiibo, too, who looked for all the world as if he might ram the nearest sharp object into his own head. Had tensions in the group really been high enough to drive them this far? Why hadn’t he noticed? What else had he been missing all this time?

“Calm down, Kokichi,” he muttered, gnawing on a thumbnail. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Was this a murder attempt? Another of Monokuma’s sick games? Or maybe—

“Kokichi….”

He went rigid when someone behind him hooked their fingers over his scarf and tugged it downward, nuzzling against the nape of his neck. “Shu—Shuichi?” he squeaked, belatedly recognizing the owner of the voice. “What—”

“I never told you,” he murmured, “how cute you are, ’Kichi….”

“Wh … wh-wh- _wha-at?”_ His brain froze over; he couldn’t come up with a response other than that. _What? WHAT?_

A shiver jolted down his spine when Shuichi’s hands moved to his waist, his warm breath wreathing his neck. “You looked so bored over here,” the detective purred. “Come back to my room and play with me for a while.”

_This isn’t happening this isn’t happening—_

“Whoa, there, sidekick.” Kaito appeared out of nowhere, pulling Shuichi away by his shoulders. Kokichi let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, spinning to face them and pulling his scarf up in an attempt to hide the blush flaring up in his cheeks.

“What’s gotten into you, man?” Kaito was asking.

“A-ah—sorry, Kaito,” Shuichi said with a crooked grin, tracing his fingers across Kaito’s collarbone. “You can … punish me if you want….”

Kaito dropped him as quickly as if he’d been burnt. “Ew! Shuichi!”

_This is bad._

Kokichi’s thoughts raced circles around each other, a hundred theories and plans and possibilities clamoring for his attention at once. Poison. Drugs. Brain damage. Psychotic breakdowns.

_This is so, so bad._

The lab with the poisons in it hadn’t been opened yet, so those were out of the question. Right? Nobody was an Ultimate Chemist, so sophisticated drugs had to be impossible. Right?

What if he was wrong?

_We’re going to die._

No, no, no, they’d already lost too many people, he couldn’t let them die. There was still a chance to figure everything out, he just needed more _time—_

“Puhuhu! You kids sure are lively this morning!”

The black-and-white bear standing on one of the dining tables drew screams from several members of the group, most notably Tenko, who carried on until Maki covered her mouth with her hand.

But for Kokichi, there was something oddly calming about the sight.

_…Of course._

_Another motive._

“Monokuma,” Kaito growled unnecessarily.

“What do you want?” Maki chimed in.

“Did you do something to our friends?” Tsumugi said.

_Man, they’re all so dumb._

“I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Monokuma said innocently. “You can always count on a killing game for some action! In fact, you could even say….” Its red eye glinted. “The excitement is reaching a _fever pitch,_ am I right?”

“Fever?” Kokichi muttered, then glanced down at Shuichi, who was still lying on his back on the floor, gazing up at Kaito with glazed golden eyes. “Shuichi, can I feel your head?”

His only response was a weak _hmmm._ Kokichi brushed the back of his hand over Shuichi’s forehead and winced. “Yikes. Your brain’s probably cooking itself. How do you feel?”

“Like finding out if your lips taste as good as they look,” he sighed.

“He’s out of his _mind,”_ Kaito groaned.

“He’s sick,” Kokichi corrected tersely, shoving down the worry twisting in his gut. He forced a bright smile to his face and looked back at Monokuma. “Hey, didn’t you say you couldn’t do anything to us directly? The game isn’t fun when you _cheat.”_

“Someone hasn’t been paying attention to the rules!” Monokuma chided. “Read it and weep! ‘Monokuma will never directly _commit a murder.’_ There’s nothing saying I’m not allowed to spice things up a bit with another motive!”

“Motive?” Gonta gasped.

Kaito clenched his fists. “You mean you’re using _this_ to try and make us kill someone?”

“As per usual, Kaito’s a little slow on the uptake!” Monokuma said with a cackle.

“Hey!”

“How devious,” Rantaro mused, tapping his chin. “You’ve made all three of them into easy targets.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” Monokuma applauded. “And get this: every time the clock hits midnight and everybody’s still alive and kicking, somebody else gets infected with the Despair Disease. Better get stabbing! Puhuhu!”

And with that, the bear vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

It only took a few seconds for the group to descend into chaos. Tenko started crying again, Kaito began spouting off one of his everything’s-gonna-be-fine speeches, Miu started yelling obscenities at no one in particular….

Kokichi heaved a sigh and tuned it all out.

_Focus._

The first two motives had focused on the killers, giving them a _reason_ to act. This one gave them an _opportunity,_ meaning the mastermind had changed tactics. Something wasn’t working for them…. Something was boring, or overdone, or not dramatic enough for whoever was watching.

_Something’s changed…._

Kokichi chewed his thumbnail again. A change of plans meant potential weak points to be exploited. If the mastermind wasn’t as prepared as they thought they were….

_Could I do it now?_

Changing _his_ plans in response meant that whatever new plan he put into place would have weak points, too. He’d have to move quickly enough to take the mastermind by surprise, if that were even possible.

He scowled. _Screw it. I’m sick of waiting for a good hand._

He latched onto Gonta’s sleeve and tugged insistently until Gonta turned toward him. “Hey,” he called over the others’ arguments. “I need your help with something.”

While Kokichi climbed onto a dining table across from where Monokuma had stood, Gonta faced the others, took an enormous deep breath, and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

_“QUIEEET!”_

The sheer volume drowned out every other voice in the room like a crack of thunder. Even Kaito stopped talking, and all heads turned toward Gonta and Kokichi, some apprehensive, some expectant. Kokichi scanned over the group, ordering them in his head from _most impressionable_ to _most stubborn._ Not a whole lot to work with … but he wasn’t about to let the mastermind destroy whatever fragile cooperation they’d managed to build.

Even if he had to take control of the entire group.

“It’s obvious that Monokuma wants us to panic,” he began. “We’ll need to keep our heads clear and work quickly if we want to keep everybody alive.”

Tenko sobbed quietly in Maki’s arms, and the others exchanged uncertain glances.

“Kirumi, you’re the closest thing we have to a doctor. We need you and Tsumugi to take the first shift caring for the infected.” Before anyone could raise a protest, he tacked on, “Rantaro and Gonta, you’re tough enough to move furniture around, so you’ll be in charge of converting the AV room into a medical area. Got it?”

“Gonta help in any way he can!” Gonta said.

Rantaro smirked. “I guess that settles it,” he said.

Kokichi nodded. That made four out of the eight functional group members on his side, which made it more likely the others would listen. _Even if it’s me talking._

Now for the stubborn ones. “Miu, there’s got to be something in that ridiculous lab of yours that can either prevent the spread of the infection or cure it. Kiyo, we need your eye for detail to make sure she doesn’t—”

“Hey, hey, _hey!”_ Miu interrupted. “You want me to invent something to cure a _disease?_ What do you take me for?”

 _Do you want me to answer that honestly?_ Kokichi almost shot back, but shook his head. “Miu, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you could do _something._ If you’ve really got such a golden brain in that impossibly thick head, get over to your lab and prove it to me. Now.”

The Ultimate Inventor’s eyes widened and her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Her competitiveness won out, though, and soon her characteristic sneer had returned full force. “Oh, I’ll _prove_ it to you,” she spat, turning on her heel and stomping toward the door. “Hah! I’ll whip something up that’ll make a vibrator look like a Happy Meal toy. Just watch me!”

_Good. Now that I’ve challenged her pride, she’s riled up enough that she probably won’t try to hurt anyone … but Kiyo…._

“Kiyo?” Kokichi prompted with an innocent smile. “Can you babysit?”

_I need to know where he’ll be._

Kiyo rubbed his eyes with a longsuffering sigh and followed Miu without a word.

Maki’s eyes were already trained on him when he turned to her. The icy intensity of her stare caught him by surprise, so instead of saying anything, he just stared back, even more surprised when she was the first to look away, rising to her feet and pulling Tenko along with her. “I’ll keep an eye on the infected, too,” she said simply.

“Thank you,” Kokichi said, and the assassin ignored him.

“Um … Kokichi?” Tsumugi’s voice held a note of uncertainty, though he couldn’t tell whether that was because she was addressing him or because of Shuichi leaning heavily against her, resting his head on her shoulder with a light blush tinting his cheeks.

“What’s the problem?”

“Just that … I’m plainly worried about the disease spreading,” Tsumugi said. “It’s not that I don’t want to help our friends, but—”

“Monokuma said one more person would be infected per day,” Kokichi said. “That means he has control over the disease, so it probably doesn’t matter who’s spending the most time with the sick. We’ll have everyone take shifts, though, just in case.”

“Besides, being stuck in the Academy means we’ve all been exposed already,” Rantaro pointed out.

“Oh, it isn’t that,” Tsumugi amended hurriedly. “I meant that maybe we should assign more people to look for a cure….”

“Ah. Well….” Kokichi frowned. “Let’s address the biggest problem first. We’ve got a suicidal robot, a nervous wreck, and Shuichi, who’s… _._ ” _Who’s still undressing me with his eyes._ “Who’s not himself. As soon as we’ve got them situated, we’ll see what we can do about a cure.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Tsumugi said. “I’ll—”

Shuichi interrupted her with a low chuckle and a whisper of “Take good care of me, all right?” and the Ultimate Cosplayer’s face went even redder than his.

“Er—Rantaro?” Kokichi said. “Maybe you should be the one. Can you get Shuichi to….” _To stop looking at me like that?_ “T-to the, uh … the AV room?”

 _He’s one of the only people in this room that_ probably _doesn’t like boys…._

“Sure.” Rantaro tried ineffectually to conceal another amused smile as he swung Shuichi’s other arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Casanova.”

They filed out of the cafeteria, silent except for Tenko’s crying and Kiibo’s occasional indecipherable mumbling. Kokichi took a deep breath before turning to face the biggest challenge of all.

Kaito’s arms were folded over his broad chest, his eyes narrowed in obvious suspicion. Even with Kokichi at a higher vantage point, he seemed to glare down at him, working his jaw as if chewing on the words he wanted to say. Kokichi sat down on the table and hung his legs over the edge, deciding to let the one he’d just usurped power from start the conversation.

He didn’t disappoint. “What are you playing at, Kokichi?”

“Why are you so sure that I’m playing?”

“You’re always playing. It’s sort of your thing, right? So what’s the deal?”

“Rude! I’m the epitome of sincerity,” Kokichi said, sliding to the ground and lacing his fingers behind his head. “But that’s a lie. Here, let me put it as monosyllabic as possible for you,” he added. _“I don’t want to see them die.”_

Kaito shook his head at that. “Don’t give me that. Just yesterday you were telling us how much fun you were having with this game. Would you quit talking in circles already?”

“Fine.” Kokichi shrugged. “You’re right, I’m always playing. But I only like games when they’re fair, and I’m not the biggest fan of how Monokuma’s starting to play dirty.”

“So?”

 _“So,_ since I’m not having fun, I’m going to make it boring for him, too.”

“By using everyone like toys.”

“By _cooperating_ with them, Kaito, and making them cooperate, too. We have to work together if we’re going to get out of this. That’s honestly all I have in mind.”

Kaito shook his head slowly. “I really don’t get you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” Kokichi said. “But we can’t be at each other’s throats with everyone’s necks on the line. Agreed?” He stuck out his hand.

Kaito frowned a moment longer before extending his.

Kokichi swatted it away, though, letting one of his more sinister grins flicker across his face. “Kidding. Were you really about to _trust_ me, Kaito? You know I’m probably the mastermind, right?”

Kaito ground his teeth. “You _just said—"_

“It was a lie,” Kokichi deadpanned. “You should be used to that by now. But, hey, it got you to listen to me, right? So I’ll tell you what I really think.”

He moved forward and into Kaito’s personal space, fast enough to put him on edge, judging by the way the taller boy instinctively stepped away. “Stay out of my way,” he hissed. “If there’s a way to get us out of this without someone dying, I’m going to find it myself.”

Kaito’s wide eyes said he’d taken him by surprise, but the way his fingertips twitched said he was ready for a fight, so Kokichi backed off and plastered on a completely fake smile. _“So,_ you and I are heading to the warehouse to see if we can scavenge up anything remotely useful. And you’re going to stay where I can see you the whole time.”

Kaito snorted, his usual bravado bouncing right back. “Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid?”

“I prefer ‘attentive.’”

“Really, dude, what do you think I’m about to do? Do I seem like that shady of a person to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Fearless Leader.” Kokichi rolled his eyes, moving toward the door. “Everyone here obeyed you until a couple of minutes ago, so you could be planning on getting rid of any threats to your authority.”

“Again with the paranoia.”

“But, hey, just remember that having the loudest voice doesn’t make you a leader,” Kokichi said over his shoulder. “You have to know how people think. Predicting someone means you control them. If I wanted to, I could turn everyone in this compound against you, Kaito.”

He let the threat hang in the air, humming a deceptively lighthearted tune as he made his way out of the cafeteria. Subdued, quiet footsteps followed after him.


	2. Chapter 2

On the second day of the outbreak, Kaito saw a ghost.

Well. More or less.

The night had played out exactly as planned: dinner, then a few spare minutes spent training with Maki, then turning in to bed early, to be woken up all too soon by Gonta for his early-morning shift watching over the infected. Kaito had paused to make sure they were still breathing—Kiibo, his head buried under his pillow; Tenko, twitching and muttering in her sleep; Shuichi, out cold on one of the couches—before sitting down on the other couch and examining the moon buggy model kit Shuichi had given him.

_This is the LRV-II,_ he decided, smiling at the picture on the assembly instructions. _Apollo 16, piloted by John Young and Charles Duke. Awesome._

Awesome enough to keep him awake for the next three-and-a-half hours, he hoped, rubbing the last of the sleepiness from his eyes and getting to work.

For a long time, the only sounds in the AV room were the plastic pieces clicking together and the soft breathing of his sleeping classmates. Kaito had forgotten how peaceful the Ultimate Academy could seem at times—if it weren’t for the giant cage trapping them inside and the footsteps echoing in the hall, he could almost forget—

Wait.

Kaito set down the pieces of the half-finished model and sat up straighter, heart quickening. Those were definitely footsteps, he decided, eyes locking on the door as he reached for one of the two-way radios he and Kokichi had found in the warehouse yesterday. His thumb hovered over the ‘call’ button as a shadowy figure shambled past the windows.

_“Nowhere left to run….”_

The whisper was far too gravelly to possibly belong to any of his classmates. Kaito could swear he felt the temperature of the room drop several degrees. He lifted the radio to his mouth. “Kokichi, wake up.”

The reply was instantaneous. _“What’s going on?”_

“Something’s here.”

A brief pause. The shadow slunk past the door again.

_“I’ll wake everyone up,”_ Kokichi said. _“Do you know who it is?”_

“Keep your voice down,” Kaito hissed, _definitely_ not shivering as he crept closer to the door. “I don’t … I don’t think it’s—”

He cut off when the shadow muttered something again, too garbled for him to understand.

_“Kaito.”_

“Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s human,” he breathed.

_“Kaito, are you suggesting you’re being attacked by a ghost?”_

The word alone made Kaito jump so badly he nearly dropped the radio. “Stop it! Just … get over here, all right?”

_“On our way. Keep talking to me.”_

_“You’re trapped in here,”_ said the thing outside the door, slowing to a stop. Its shadowy head turned to look at him.

Kaito swore, stepping backward until the small of his back pressed against the couch. “It knows I’m in here. _Hurry,_ you guys!” Why was it so _cold?_

_It’s not real, it’s not real, ghosts aren’t real—_

Running footsteps from down the hall. The doorknob began to turn—

And someone whispered his name into his ear.

Someone was screaming, and it took Kaito several seconds to realize it was him. He opened his eyes to Maki shaking him by the shoulders with a scowl. “Stop that now. It’s too early for this.”

“Maki Roll?” he gasped. “A-a ghost! There was—”

“Stop whimpering and turn around,” she sighed.

Kaito clamped his mouth shut and obeyed, only to see Shuichi peering back at him, dazed, from his kneeling position on the seat of the couch. The detective blinked and a slow grin crept across his face. “Sorry, Kaito,” he said. “I was just excited to see you….”

Kaito shook his head. “But … at the door….”

“That would be our newest infected,” said Rantaro, guiding a disheveled Kiyo into the AV room with one arm pinned behind his back. “And I’d venture to say he looks like more of a zombie than a ghost.”

“So, what does he have, then?” Kokichi flicked the lights on, the other students filing in behind him. “Zombie disease? Better keep that mask on, then. Or,” he added, “maybe Kaito’s infected with paranoid delusions like Tenko, and Kiyo was trying to kill _him—”_

Rantaro hummed and put a hand to Kiyo’s forehead. “No, he’s definitely feverish.”

“You’ll never find them,” Kiyo muttered, narrowing his eyes at Rantaro. “No matter where you look. You’ll never see them again.”

Kaito didn’t miss the expression of horror that flashed across Rantaro’s face.

“Oh, good,” Kokichi said, pulling Kiyo away and toward the other infected. “He just spouts slightly-creepier-than-usual bullcrap. This’ll be fun. Kirumi, can you get another sleeping bag ready?”

“Of course. One moment, please.”

Kiyo glared at Maki as he passed. “They trusted you. You abandoned them just like you were abandoned.”

Maki’s face went white with fury, and Kaito wondered if she might step forward to throttle him. Could he know about…? No, Maki only told him and Shuichi about her orphanage….

“Since we’re sure everyone’s still alive, you guys can go back to bed while I take the rest of the morning shift,” Kokichi said, then smirked. “Lucky we got here when we did. Poor Kaito might have had a heart attack.”

“Shut up!” Kaito snapped. “You would’ve been freaked out, too! And so what if it was Kiyo? That doesn’t explain why it got so cold all of a sudden!”

Kokichi’s face went blank again, and he very slowly lifted a hand to point at the air conditioning vent right above Kaito’s head.

On the third day, breakfast was late.

It made no sense how such a small disruption in schedule could heighten tensions as much as it did. Eleven pairs of eyes darted around the dining hall like Pavlov’s eleven hungry and unaccountably apprehensive dogs. Two possibilities— _Kirumi’s infected_ or _she’s dead_ — hung heavy in the air, but nobody dared to speak, at least until Kokichi heaved a sigh and stood up.

“Gonta, let’s go check her room. Maki, try her lab. Kaito and Rantaro, if she isn’t in the kitchen, start scrambling eggs or something.”

Obeying the little leader was routine at this point, and routine equals comfort, Kaito reflected as he followed Rantaro to the kitchen. Kokichi’s personality seemed to have done a complete 180 since the start of the outbreak, from a trickster who never took anything seriously to a commanding and resourceful … well, Ultimate Supreme Leader.

_Where has_ that _been all this time?_ he wondered with a slight scowl. _We needed a leader like him from day one. Why wait until four of us are dead?_

The kitchen door swung shut behind them and Rantaro abruptly halted in his tracks, shooting an alarmed look over his shoulder and whispering “Something’s wrong.”

A soft _crunch-crunch-scrape_ sound, like a knife cutting through vegetables, drifted toward them from the other side of the kitchen, behind the ovens. Yeah, that’s all it was, just Kirumi chopping vegetables….

Except that sound was accompanied by harsh, erratic panting and barely-audible, furious muttering.

Rantaro crept toward the sounds and Kaito reluctantly trailed behind him, scanning the countertops for … what, something to defend himself? He scoffed inwardly. This was Kirumi. She wasn’t about to hurt anyone.

They rounded the corner to find the maid at the sink, rinsing something off under the faucet with much more vehemence than seemed necessary.

“…Have to remove the daikon peel _after_ cutting it, to stop it from breaking apart… tch! Disgusting.”

A nearby cutting board topped with a pile of mutilated daikon attested to her distaste. Rantaro cleared his throat. “Kirumi?”

“Add the _nishime kombu_ even though it’s _completely unnecessary_ ….”

“Rantaro, _wait!”_ Kaito hissed as his classmate moved closer still.

“Finish the whole bloody mess off with that … that detestable _konjac…!”_

“Kirumi,” Rantaro said. “Can we talk to you for a minute?”

Kirumi whirled around, a massive chef’s knife clutched in her white-knuckled grip that scratched against the countertop as she staggered toward them. _“Get out of my kitchen,”_ she growled.

Kaito instinctively stepped back, then mentally kicked himself when Rantaro positioned himself in front of him. “Easy there. We just want to talk. Can you put the knife down?”

“It’s not ready!” Kirumi shrieked, spittle flying from her mouth. “It’s not _ready! BREAKFAST IS NOT READY!”_

Chopped daikon scattered like hail across the kitchen. Rantaro had grabbed the cutting board and used it as a makeshift shield, and Kirumi’s assault had left the knife buried deep in the wood. She snarled and wrenched the blade free, but Kaito rushed forward to help immobilize her before she could attack again.

Later in the dining hall, while Rantaro and Maki discussed ways to keep the homicidal maid away from the other infected, Kaito turned to Kokichi. “Still think teaming up is a bad idea?”

Kokichi chewed his thumbnail. “Just shut up and let me think.”

On the fourth day, Kaito woke to someone pounding on his door. Not a frantic or angry knocking, but insistent enough that he groaned and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his face. He hadn’t missed the morning announcement, had he? No, the clock read half past seven….

_But I don’t remember being scheduled for a shift…._

The knocking continued. Kaito shook his head to clear it and shuffled toward the door, swallowing down the itch in his throat. “All right, I’m here, give me a second….”

The moment the door opened, Kaito recoiled as Shuichi stumbled into him, clutching onto his shirt with both hands as if it was the only way for him to stay on his feet. “Whoa! Uh, Shuichi?”

“Ngh….” Shuichi rested his forehead against Kaito’s shoulder. “Kaito, I … I m-missed you….”

“Uh … it’s good to see you, too,” Kaito said, frowning. “Hey, is everything all right?”

Shuichi giggled— _giggled?—_ breathily and shook his head. “Heh … no. I-I … I’m sorry, I … _Kaito….”_

Kaito gingerly pushed him away, brushing aside his sweat-soaked bangs to feel his forehead. “You, uh … seem worse than yesterday. How about we find you something to drink, and then get you back downst—” He froze as realization hit. “You’re supposed to be downstairs.”

“N-no—wait—” Shuichi threw his arms around Kaito and pressed his face to his chest. “Can … can I stay here? With you? _Please,_ Kaito, I… I need s-something right now, and I….”

“Shuichi, focus.” Kaito pried Shuichi’s arms away from his midsection. “Gonta’s supposed to be watching you guys right now, isn’t he? What happened?”

“Gonta…?” Shuichi repeated blankly, shivering. “I … no, I … I just want you, Kaito….”

Kaito stared.

Shuichi’s glassy, half-lidded gaze never left his. “I-I’ve never felt … like this … about a-anyone before…. Kaito, I … I can’t stop thinking about you….”

“Sit down,” Kaito interrupted, pushing Shuichi gently to the ground. “I’m going to get help.”

“W-wait,” Shuichi mumbled, reaching after him, but his strength seemed to vanish and he slumped onto his side, wincing and curling in on himself with a small whine.

Kaito pounded his fist on Kokichi’s door just enough times to be obnoxious. “Dude, wake up! Something’s wrong.”

The door opened surprisingly quickly. “What do you want?” Kokichi said through teeth clenched around a hair band, pulling his hair back into a loose ponytail. “I’m right here.”

Kaito paused when he noticed an uncharacteristic expression of _exhaustion_ a fraction of a second before the Supreme Leader replaced it with his usual neutral one. “Uh … you okay? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Geez, thanks. I was gonna say the same thing about you.” At least his sarcasm was as sharp as ever. “Not like anybody’s going to look their best after several all-nighters in a row.”

“That’s a lie, right? You definitely didn’t have those shadows under your eyes yesterday.”

“There’s this thing called makeup people use when they want to look good. You should try it sometime,” Kokichi said. “Wait, what did you want?”

Kaito pointed toward Shuichi, still curled up on the floor outside his room. “I think someone on night shift slacked off.”

Kokichi muttered a curse, ducking back into his room to grab the radio. “Stupid, stupid, stupid….”

“Hey, can I come in?” Kaito called, catching the door before it closed. From what little he could see of Kokichi’s room, it looked like a tornado had blown through it—papers and cardboard boxes were scattered across the floor, notebooks lay in a heap on the bed, and a large whiteboard stood in one corner. “Kokichi?”

“No.” Kokichi moved to the door again, and Kaito stuck his foot out to stop it before it could slam shut. “Hello, anyone alive down there?” Kokichi said into the radio. “I need a status report.”

The reply came after a few beats of silence. _“Hmm… Kokichi?”_ Tsumugi yawned. _“Is something wrong?”_

“Yep! How many of the infected are in the room with you?”

Tsumugi paused. _“Oh— oh, no! They’re not— how could I have fallen asleep?”_

Kokichi gritted his teeth, but his voice remained level as ever. “I need you to come back to the dorms, okay? Hurry.”

_“R-right—Oh, I’m so, so sorry!”_

“Let me in,” Kaito said. “We need to talk about—”

“I said _no,”_ Kokichi growled, then raised his voice in an exaggerated wail. _“Waaah!_ Kaito wants to force his way into my room and do dirty things to me!”

_“No!_ I’m not—shut up!” Kaito spluttered, backing up. Kokichi turned off the waterworks just as quickly, shutting the door behind him. “I just need to talk to you about what’s been going on, all right?”

“Mind if we walk and talk? There’s a crisis happening.” Kokichi brushed past him toward the opposite staircase, rapping on Gonta’s door as he passed. “Gonta! Emergency!”

“No, I need you to actually listen to me,” Kaito said. “Kokichi, this can’t continue—”

“Let’s make sure everyone’s still _alive_ before we start this again.” Kokichi nodded at the girls’ dormitory. “Can you get them up?”

Kaito heaved a sigh and complied.

Tsumugi was the last to join the group as they gathered on the first floor of the dorms. “I’m so sorry, everyone!” she cried, wringing her hands. “I was just plainly exhausted, and I thought—”

Kokichi raised a hand. “No time for that. Everybody, check the people next to you to see if they’re running a fever.”

“Gonta feels just fine,” Gonta muttered to Kaito, who nodded his agreement.

“Yeah, you’re okay.”

“Oh, thank you very much! Does Kaito feel okay, too?”

“I’m—” Kaito brought his arm up to stifle a sudden cough, swallowing the bitter metallic taste that sprang up at the back of his throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Sooo, that means no new infected, right?” Miu said.

Maki nodded. “Seems like it.”

“Hya-hah! Suck it, Monokuma!”

“You mean, you’re not the least bit concerned about that?” Rantaro arched an eyebrow at her.

Miu sneered. “What’s that supposed to mean, ya virgin?”

His eyes darkened. “You’d do well to pay attention to the rules of the game for a change.”

“He’s right,” Maki said softly. “Monokuma said he’d only infect someone if everyone was still alive.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

Kokichi cleared his throat. “Buddy up and find the other infected, then bring them back to the AV room. Gonta and Miu, take Shuichi downstairs and stand guard over the infected that the others bring to you. If anyone sees Kirumi, don’t confront her,” he added. “Right now we just need to know where she is.”

“And if we find a body?” Maki said.

“Make enough noise for the rest of us to find you,” Kokichi said. “Ready? Go.”

Kaito watched his classmates dash out of the dorms, then glanced back at Kokichi, who had leaned against the railing of the staircase, closing his eyes. “Can we talk _now?”_

“Sure,” he muttered. “Let’s take it outside.”

“Are you … shaking?”

“Just cold. Come on.”

Wordless, Kaito followed him out into the courtyard. The morning sun shone through the bars of the giant cage over the school with its usual cheeriness, and an Exisal tromped by in the distance, carrying a few steel beams toward the area under construction. Too calm for the grim circumstances, especially when another class trial could be just around the corner—

“Are you going to talk or what?”

Kokichi had stopped just inside the grassy area to the right of the dorms, arms folded expectantly. Kaito squared his shoulders and mirrored his position subconsciously. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but this is the fourth day of the outbreak and we haven’t made any progress toward stopping it. Someone might be _dead_ right now. Do you really have any ideas, or are you just screwing with us?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Kokichi said quietly. “I just need more time to get it done.”

“Mind telling me what it is?”

“If I tell you, it won’t work.”

“So I’m just supposed to trust you?”

“Yeah, basically.”

Kaito bristled. “Are you hearing yourself? You won’t trust anyone to work with you, but you expect us to blindly follow your every command?”

“I _expect you_ to follow the system I’ve put into place.” Kokichi kept his face carefully neutral. “If order isn’t maintained, people are going to panic, and then someone else _will_ die.”

“They’ll only panic if they feel like no one believes in them. People aren’t machines, Kokichi, and you shouldn’t be treating them like they are.”

The other raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have that luxury. Unless you want to sacrifice unity and efficiency, which would mean another body discovery announcement.”

Kaito clenched his fists. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Oh, you won’t _let_ it?” Kokichi scowled. “Listen to yourself, Kaito. Do you really think you can _believe_ your way out of this? Your ideals are getting us nowhere. We need a _plan.”_

“No, we need to work together!” Kaito burst out. “If we don’t trust each other, we’ll just be playing into Monokuma’s hands! You’re the one making things worse by ignoring that!”

“As I’ve told you a _million times,”_ Kokichi hissed, “trusting them is going to get you killed. They could _kill you,_ Kaito!”

“You don’t know that for sure!” he insisted. “Expecting the worst out of everyone is—”

_“Is the only way to stay alive!”_ Kaito couldn’t recall a time when he’d seen Kokichi angrier. His face twisted into a snarl as he spat, “We’re in a killing game, you idiot! Kaede is dead! Ryoma is dead! Himiko and Angie are _dead!_ You’re going to be next if you don’t accept that anyone here— _anyone_ —could stab you in the back the second you give them the chance! How does that not make sense to you? Are you really that st—”

He cut off with a low grunt when Kaito grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. “Stop it,” he growled, fury flaring through his veins. “I don’t want to hear it. There are good people trapped in here, and I’m not going to let them get killed because you’re too cynical to help them. It’s not worth surviving if we all end up miserable and alone like you. _Understand?”_

Wide violet eyes stared back at him. All traces of the rage from before had vanished, replaced with … was that fear?

Terror, he corrected himself, letting his grip slacken just a little as a thread of guilt twisted in his gut. The Kokichi he knew didn’t get scared, especially not of him. Even the time he’d dragged him by the scruff of his neck to Angie’s lab and made him apologize for scribbling mustaches on her paintings, he had just laughed and insisted that Atua had commanded him to. The look in his eyes now made Kaito uneasy in a way he couldn’t describe.

Especially when Kokichi let out a barely-audible whimper, small hands trembling as they clutched at his wrists. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I-I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me.”

“I’m—I’m not gonna hurt you,” Kaito protested, lowering the other boy to the ground but keeping a firm grip on his scarf. “Geez, quit looking at me like that. All I’m saying is that you being paranoid is only hurting people.”

“Please, just let me go,” Kokichi said, his arms raised to shield his head. Tears had sprung to the corner of his eyes. “I don’t—I don’t want any trouble. I won’t bother you anymore, I—please, please, let go of me—”

“Dude, chill,” Kaito sighed, finally relenting and releasing him. He expected another cocky smirk, a laughing taunt tossed at him as Kokichi darted away, but the boy just shrank against the wall, swiping his sleeve at the tears spilling down his cheeks. “You … you do know that I wasn’t gonna hit you, right?” he added.

Kokichi glanced up slightly, and once again, Kaito didn’t like what he saw. Something in Kokichi’s expression was too vulnerable, too _raw,_ nothing like the exaggerated crocodile tears or stony poker faces that accompanied the Supreme Leader’s usual teasing.

“Can I leave now?” Kokichi asked timidly. “Please?”

“What’s going on, man?” Kaito asked. “You’re a mess.”

“I-I-I … I’m sorry, I….” His wandering eyes fixed on something behind Kaito, and the fear on his face turned to astonishment. “W-wait. That’s….”

“The one and only!” laughed a too-familiar voice.

Kaito turned toward Monokuma and groaned. “You again?”

“Is _that_ where I am?” Kokichi breathed. He grinned and latched onto Kaito’s arm. “Hey! I changed my mind. If you want to kill me, that’s fine, really. I’ll even help you!”

Kaito felt a chill, staring into the face of someone inexplicably _delighted_ at the prospect of being murdered.

“Oh, I know!” Kokichi hugged his arm tighter. “We’ll make a murder that’s impossible to solve, even for Monokuma! It’ll be the fourth time in history that the Blackened wins!”

_This is wrong,_ his mind screamed. _Something’s horribly, horribly wrong._

“Whoa, hold your horses,” Monokuma cut in, shuffling closer. “You’re getting a little too meta, all right? I can’t have you spoiling anything!”

“Oops, sorry!” Kokichi laughed, then tipped his head to the side. “Hold on. You’ve already started the game, right? Shouldn’t I be… um, not like this?”

“What’s the matter with him?” Kaito said in an oddly hoarse voice. “What did you do?”

“I gave him the Despair Disease, of course!” Monokuma said. “Or, well, I tried to, anyway. He was awake at the time, so something must have gone wrong with—”

“I-it’s no problem!” Kokichi burst out, busy looking himself over as if seeing his clothes for the first time. “Whoa … I mean, I’ll still play along. I’ll make it interesting, I promise!”

Monokuma considered this. “You’ll be gone for good after we finish with this motive, all right?”  
“Of course!” Kokichi’s smile was nothing short of _deranged._ “That was the whole point!”

“Puhuhu! Then it’s a deal, Mr. Ultimate Supreme Leader!”

As the bear scampered off, Kokichi giggled softly, inspecting his scarf, the false belts on his legs, the insignia on his shoulder. Kaito could only stare at this boy, this complete stranger in the body of … well, maybe Kokichi had always been a stranger.

Not _this_ strange, though. Not … _malicious._

Still giggling, Not-Kokichi turned his dead-eyed grin on him. “Hey, hey, let’s get this show on the road already! You only get to die once!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of people dislike anxious/neurotic/bullied Pre-Kokichi, but I gravitated toward it ‘cause it works with his character design....  
> Or maybe he's a better liar than you thought.  
> Anyway, that’s only a facet of his personality, so we’ll see more of what makes him tick in the next chapter, which comes out on the 23rd!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the added archive warnings!

“So… how did you say we know each other again?”

Rantaro kept his mouth quirked into a relaxed, easy smile, and the tone of his voice so expertly hid his hostility that Kaito wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at him.

“Oh, you don’t know me,” Not Kokichi clarified, fiddling with the pieces of a milk puzzle spread on the ground in front of him. “We don’t have anything to do with each other. I’m just … yeah, some random kid.”

_Not Kokichi._ That was all Kaito could bring himself to call him. The real Kokichi would have finished the puzzle by now—no, he’d still be working himself into the ground for a plan he wouldn’t let anyone help with.

“You recognized me,” Rantaro pointed out, and the other boy hesitated.

“I, um … I guess.”

“So?”

“I don’t … I don’t know how much Monokuma will let me say,” Not Kokichi said.

Tenko jerked her head up from her trembling heap in the corner. “M-Monokuma? Where? Did someone say Monokuma?”

“Everything’s fine, Tenko,” Kaito said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“E-easy for you to say, you … you m-male degenerate,” she mumbled, but fell silent again.

“Come on, we’re all friends here, right?” Rantaro prompted. “I won’t tell if you won’t. Am I a wanted criminal or something?”

“Um, you’re … you’re….” Not Kokichi took a deep breath before settling on a vague “I’ve … seen you on TV.”

“Hmm, I see.” Rantaro tapped a discreet note into his Monopad. “Is that why you know who Monokuma is?”

Not Kokichi’s eyes widened as he seemed to sense a mistake, but before he could stammer out a response, Kiyo chuckled and raised his head from the notebook he was filling with nonsensical scribbles. He pointed at Shuichi, asleep against Kaito’s shoulder, and rasped out, “He will never wake up.”

Everyone froze.

“Shuichi?” Kaito gave the detective a gentle shake. “Wake up, man. You okay?”

He couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when Shuichi blinked his eyes open—relief that quickly turned to discomfort when he threw his arms around Kaito’s waist. “I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Shuichi said. “If you want, we can … we can do something more exciting—”

Not Kokichi snorted. “What’s his problem?”

“Let’s … how about you just go back to sleep for now?” Kaito said, coughing lightly into the sleeve of his jacket.

Shuichi pouted. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I was just checking on you.”

“A-are you worried about me?”

“Enough to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Kaito said, gently pushing him down so that his head rested on the arm of the couch. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

“If you don’t want him causing trouble, you could just handcuff him to something, too.” Not Kokichi inclined his head toward where Kirumi sulked in the other corner with one arm cuffed to a protruding pipe. “He kind of looks like he’d be into that sort of thing.”

“I don’t mind being tied up as long as it’s by you,” Shuichi replied without missing a beat.

Not Kokichi blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Ohh, he’s got _that_ strain.”

“So you know about the Despair Disease, too?” Rantaro mused. “That’s interesting.”

Not Kokichi clamped his mouth shut.

Even through his mask, Kiyo managed to give the impression that he was smirking at Kaito. “Nothing you do can save them after it kills you.”

“Shove it,” Kaito sighed.

Between Kiyo’s mumbling, Kiibo’s intermittent breakdowns, and Not Kokichi’s … Not-Kokichi-ness, Kaito was starting to understand how the Despair Disease could be a motive for murder after all. _If the real Kokichi was here, we’d at least be able to blow off steam with one of his stupid games,_ he caught himself thinking, then immediately scowled. _I must be going crazy if I’m starting to miss that gremlin._

By the time Maki and Tsumugi arrived with dinner, even Rantaro had started to look dead inside.

“Evening, everyone!” Tsumugi called, balancing a plate piled with food in her hand while opening the door with the other. “Sorry we’re late! We tried to make tripe hot pot like Kirumi, but I’m a plainly awful cook, and—”

“Savory hotteok,” Maki interrupted, brushing past her with another plate. “You’ll eat it and like it.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Maki Roll,” Kaito said with a weary grin, swiping one of the filled buns off of the plate. “I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

“Whoa,” Shuichi breathed. “You’re beautiful _and_ you can cook? I— _mmph.”_

Maki shoved a hotteok in his mouth. “Shut up and eat.”

She sat down on Kaito’s other side and nibbled rather halfheartedly at her own hotteok, while Kaito ate almost half of his in one bite, humming his approval. “This is _awesome._ Where’d you learn to cook, Maki Roll?”

“I went undercover for a while in a restaurant,” she said. “Poison assignment.”

“Poison?” Tenko shrieked, holding her hotteok at arm’s length.

“She said ‘noisy,’ not ‘poison,’” Rantaro lied, tucking Kiibo’s blanket tighter around him. “It’s all right, Tenko.”

“It would’ve made for a boring murder anyway,” Not Kokichi muttered, and Maki shot him a glare.

“Do you want to die, brat?”

He grinned. “Generally.”

“Ignore him,” Kaito said. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Things are really tense,” she said. “I’d give it a day before heads start to roll.”

Tsumugi winced. “I, um … I thought things were going all right….”

“Then you’re not paying attention,” Maki said. “During a war, an assassin’s goal is to take out the other army’s commanding officers. When troops fall into disorder, they panic and are forced to surrender. Or, in our case, they kill each other.”

“Did you just acknowledge _Kokichi_ as your commanding officer?” Not Kokichi said. “I thought you hated—”

“Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?” Rantaro countered. Not Kokichi gritted his teeth and looked away.

_Commanding officer, huh?_ Kaito picked up a second hotteok, considering his next words. _Could I offer them something like that?_

Probably not, he realized suddenly. Individual sidekicks were easy—all they needed was special attention and a little hard work. Taking the entire group under his wing would demand time and energy he didn’t have, and he doubted any of the others would step up to lead, either.

_Giving up already, hero?_ he could almost hear Kokichi gloat. _Why do you think they call me the Ultimate Supreme Leader? It’s ‘cause I’m better than you!_

_Ugh._

No, Kokichi’s control-freak leadership style had already caused enough problems. Kaito crossed his arms and tossed his head back. “Man, what’s with _those_ awful expressions? Now’s not the time to give up! We aren’t gonna let Monokuma’s stupid motive bring us down!”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Maki began, but Kaito waved her off.

“Look, I know things look pretty impossible right now. So, all we have to do is make the impossible possible! As long as we believe in ourselves and in each other, there’s nothing we can’t do!”

Tsumugi nodded slowly. “That, ah … doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I think Kaito’s right! We can’t lose hope!”

“Whatever,” Maki muttered, trying ineffectually to conceal a smile. “Maybe one day he’ll realize how stupid that sounds.”

“Wha— it’s not stupid!” he spluttered, but the others were already snorting back laughter. “Guys!”

“Maybe a little stupid is what we need,” Rantaro laughed. “At a time like this, we … huh?”

Before he could finish, the ceiling lights flickered and shut off, plunging the AV room into pitch darkness.

Kaito stood up immediately, feeling Maki do the same at his side, and blinked hard as if that would clear his vision. “Uh… What the…?”

“What’s going on?” came Tsumugi’s panicked voice from somewhere behind him.

“H-hey!” Tenko yelped. “Turn the lights back on! This i-isn’t funny!”

“A blackout?”

“Someone find the light switch!”

“Calm down,” Rantaro said. “Everybody calm down. The dark can’t hurt you.”

“Only what’s in it,” Kiyo murmured.

The group fell silent for a few heartbeats as the anthropologist’s words sunk in.

“Rantaro’s right. Calm down,” Maki said, and a soft light blinked on in her hand—the lock screen of her Monopad. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Oh. Good idea.” Tsumugi fumbled for her own Monopad with shaky hands, and Kaito followed suit. “I-is everybody okay?”

“Of course,” Kaito said, holding the device up and squinting into the shadows, but he could feel his pulse beating overtime in his ears. In a way, the dim light passing over the shapes in the room made things _worse_ —in the blackness, the room was left to his imagination, but _barely_ being able to see things made that imagination run wild.

“You’re breathing really hard,” Maki muttered, and Kaito coughed.

“It’s—it’s fine. Everything’s—”

A quiet crackle from the ceiling shut him up. From over the intercom, Monokuma cleared its throat. _“Uh, hi, hello, everyone! It’s your beloved headmaster.”_

“Oh, great,” Rantaro sighed.

_“So, uh, I’ve got some good news and some bad news,”_ the bear said. _“Bad news is… one of the Exisals was doing some electrical work in the construction area aaand… I had to use the microwave, and… and the toaster, and, well, long story short, we may have tripped the breaker!”_

“That’s just fantastic,” Maki said.

_“But—but the good news! There’s good news, don’t worry!”_ Kaito couldn’t tell if the Monokuma sounded embarassed or excited. _“OSHA regulations say we’ve got to have a backup lighting system, so that should be coming on in… three! Two! One!”_

Red emergency lights flared on. Rantaro and Tsumugi bolted to their feet and Kaito swore explosively.

Their infected classmates had vanished.

“How did— What— They were _right next to me,”_ Rantaro gasped.

“I didn’t even hear them moving!” Tsumugi agreed.

Kaito’s gaze fell on Not Kokichi, still sitting cross-legged on the floor, so motionless that he hadn’t noticed him at first. The other returned his stare expectantly, with an expression so blank it might as well have been frozen over. Kaito shuddered.

_“Puhuhuhu!”_ Monokuma’s grating laughter startled him out of his reverie. _“Oopsies! Better find them, and quick! Who knows what they could get up to without their babysitters?”_

“We—we’ll have to split up,” Rantaro said. “And Miu and Gonta need to know—”

_“But before you do that,”_ Monokuma interrupted, _“there’s one more issue I should bring to your attention. The Exisals may have also bumped into a major gas pipeline while working, and since no electricity also means our filtration system is offline, well… there’s a bit more CO2 in the air than what’s considered normal. Or healthy. You have maybe seven minutes before you start dropping.”_

_It just keeps getting better,_ Kaito thought bitterly as Maki grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the exit.

“Move it. We’re in danger.”

“I know, I—” Kaito turned back to the statuesque figure on the floor. “Are you going to start running or what?”

“Why?” In the sharp glare of the emergency lights, Not Kokichi’s eyes looked more lifeless than ever.

“Are you insane? If you stay here, you’ll die!”

“And that’s a bad thing?” The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “This is the killing game. Dying here is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Maki stomped forward. “I’ve had it with this brat,” she seethed.

“Maki, don’t—!”

“Nooo,” Not Kokichi whined, but allowed himself to be manhandled bonelessly into a fireman’s carry. Maki jogged after Tsumugi and Rantaro, and Kaito gritted his teeth, tried to ignore the itch in his lungs, and followed.

“Hey! _Hey!_ We’re over here, you virgins!”

Kaito hadn’t realized it was possible to be relieved to see Miu. He and the others slowed to a stop as she and Gonta caught up to them, everyone gasping for the fresh air of the courtyard—except for Not Kokichi, who just sighed as Maki dumped him unceremoniously onto the grass.

Miu wheezed. “You … you jerkoffs had better … apologize for makin’ me _run,_ you….”

“Eh, ‘sweaty whore’ is a good look on you,” Not Kokichi piped up.

_“Heee!”_

“I’ll kick you,” Maki warned. “Miu and Gonta, did you see anyone on your way here?”

“Gonta was with Miu in lab,” Gonta said. “Not see anyone else all afternoon.”

“We’ve got to go back inside,” Rantaro said, and Kaito nodded.

“Maki and I will start on the third floor. Rantaro and Gonta, can you—?”

“No. CO2 is heavier than air, so it’ll be more concentrated on the lower floors,” Rantaro cut in. “We should search those first. Gonta and I will take the basement.”

“Then we’ll take the first,” Maki decided. “Tsumugi and Miu can wait here for the infected.”

“Are you sure?” Tsumugi looked close to tears. “It’ll be dangerous in there!”

“Which is exactly why we can’t leave the others inside,” Kaito said, pounding his fist into his palm.

“Gonta not let friends get hurt!” Gonta agreed.

“Hey.” Kaito felt a small tug on the back of his jacket. “I’m coming with you.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Try and stop me and your friends could get killed,” Not Kokichi said gleefully. “Don’t worry, I promise not to cause you any trouble.”

Kaito seethed, but Not Kokichi was right—they just didn’t have the time to argue. “Don’t fall behind.”

The air inside the academy seemed _heavier,_ and each breath Kaito took felt more inadequate than the last. Maki’s relentless pace didn’t help matters, and soon Kaito’s attention was split between scanning the red-light-tinted classrooms and trying not to start coughing—knowing that if he did, he’d end up on his knees spitting blood.

True to his word, Not Kokichi stayed close to Kaito’s back, not speaking, even occasionally glancing into classrooms with them. Of course, the small smirk on his face suggested his motives for doing so were less _save our friends_ and more _see someone get hurt._

_He’s sick. A complete psychopath._

_And exactly the kind of person who’d looove watching a killing game!_ the real Kokichi would have cackled.

_You’re sick, too,_ Kaito growled inwardly.

The cafeteria, evidently, was an exception to the OSHA regulations regarding emergency lighting, and even Maki hesitated at the doors. “We’ll, uh … search around the perimeter of the room first,” she finally declared, holding up her Monopad and heading into the yawning blackness. “I’ll go left.”

“Got it.” Kaito flicked his own device on and began moving along the right wall of the room, with Not Kokichi following a bit too closely this time to stay closer to the light.

“Is anyone here?” Maki called. “Kirumi? Tenko?”

“Shuichi!” Kaito tried. “Kiibo? Guys, come on, we need to get you out of here!”

Silence was their only reply. When the three met up again on the opposite side of the room, Maki opened her mouth to say something, but was drowned out by another crackle from the speakers.

_“Heya, kids! Thanks for your patience! Air composition should be coming back to normal pretty soon and I’m flipping the breaker switches back on! Puhuhu….”_

An inexplicable knot of dread twisted in Kaito’s stomach. Across the cafeteria, the hallway lights flickered on in time for him to see a flash of movement through the windows.

“Shuichi!”

It was only a silhouette, but one he’d know anywhere.

“Shuichi!” he bellowed again, and charged toward the doors, barely sparing the time to hope he had the spatial awareness not to crash into the dining tables.

“W-wait for me—ack!”

The sound of Not Kokichi stumbling and hitting the floor wasn’t necessarily what stopped Kaito cold in his tracks—it was the sound, the _wet, squelching sound_ that accompanied it.

As if on cue, the cafeteria lights clicked on, revealing—

_Red. So much red, spattered in stark contrast across the polished wood floor._

Not Kokichi scrambled to a kneeling position, staring down at the blood soaking into his white uniform. His head turned slowly to look behind him, and that was what dragged Kaito’s attention to Tenko’s body, crumpled on the floor and so horribly still.

Kaito barely heard the chimes of the body discovery announcement. He barely heard Monokuma’s snickering, singsong instructions for the others to gather in the cafeteria. He was too busy watching in numb horror as Not Kokichi crawled closer to Tenko, reaching out a bloody hand to prod at her cheek.

And the maniac laughed.

“So this is what it’s like up close,” he hissed, hugging himself and practically shaking with mirth. _“This is the killing game!”_

Kaito stared into Tenko’s glassy, still-open eyes—powerful, spirited Tenko—as everything else faded into the background. All the shouts, the running footsteps, the mad laughter of the monster wearing his classmate’s skin. None of it made sense. None of it felt real.

At some point, he felt someone pull him away from the crime scene—Rantaro, maybe; he recognized the voice but it sounded like it was coming from far, far away—and coax him to a sitting position against the wall. The voice said something else, and then left him alone with his thoughts.

_Thought,_ singular. Only one echoed in his head.

_Where are you, Kokichi?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt. title: Not Kokichi sucks at keeping secrets and Monokuma really screwed the pooch by letting him out to play with the other kids  
> Alt. Alt. title: Not Kokichi isn’t a hysterical basket-case punching bag so much as he is a nerdy loser fanboy who tries desperately to look cool because he’s seen enough Danganronpa to identify the “good guys” who wouldn’t hurt him no matter what he does  
> Last chapter comes out on the 30th!


	4. Chapter 4

_It’s not fair._

“Shuichi,” Rantaro said, so calmly that Kaito wanted nothing more than to deck him in the face just to shut him up. “There’s a lot of evidence pointing to you. I’m going to ask you one more time, okay? Did you kill Tenko?”

 _He_ can’t _have…._

“Tenko….” Shuichi said, swaying at his podium—he could barely _stand,_ he couldn’t possibly have— “Uh, w-with Tenko? I wish, but I’d … remember doing something to Tenko,” he said, flushing.

Miu snorted. “Okay, _first off,_ Tenko would never _dream_ of going for a whiny little sub like Pooichi.”

Shuichi actually _moaned_. “C-call me that again….”

“And _second,”_ Miu said, “you’re tryna’ tell me this bottom killed an _Aikido master?_ Seriously?”

“Murderer,” Kirumi was mumbling as she’d been doing the entire trial, arms clutching her stomach as if holding herself back. “A horrible, revolting murderer….”

“Um….” Tsumugi raised her hand. “But hasn’t he been training with Kaito and Maki?”

“Not for long,” Maki said. “Besides, that wouldn’t make him good enough to take Tenko down, especially without getting injured himself.”

“And he doesn’t have a scratch,” Kaito agreed, the knot of horror in his stomach loosening. “Yeah, there’s no way Shuichi could have done it.”

“He could’ve taken her by surprise,” Not Kokichi pointed out. “It was really dark in there.”

“If the fly cannot see, then nor can the spider,” Kiyo said.

Not Kokichi hesitated. “If the…? _Oh,_ right. Yeah, I guess it would’ve been hard for anyone to sneak up on her unless they had the room memorized.”

“You’re disgusting,” Kirumi spat. “Disgusting, filthy killer, you don’t deserve to live….”

“Then explain why he was at the scene of the crime!” Rantaro said. “Shuichi, you need to answer me. You need to tell us what happened.”

“It has to be coincidence!” Kaito said. “There’s no way my sidekick would kill someone. It’s just not who he is!”

“Plenty of us are _not who we are_ right now, Kaito,” Rantaro said, nodding at Kiibo, who was quietly weeping on the other side of the room. “In case you’ve forgotten.”

“But Shuichi never try to hurt anyone!” Gonta said.

 _“Disgusting,”_ Kirumi raved. “You should die, you should be _killed—”_

“Shuichi!”

“Stop it!” Tsumugi said. “Shuichi can’t be the culprit! H-he just can’t be!”

“Leave him alone, Rantaro,” Maki said with a poisonous glare. “Do you want to die?”

 _“Dying,”_ Rantaro said, “is what you’re all about to be doing if you don’t accept that Shuichi _could have_ murdered Tenko. And if he doesn’t come up with a defense—”

“He can’t do that when he can’t even think straight!” Kaito said. “There has to be another answer. Shuichi didn’t kill Tenko, and that’s the end of it!”

“Your fault,” said Kirumi. “Your fault, it’s your fault, it’s your fault—”

“Will you _shut up_ already?” Not Kokichi groaned.

“Tenko…?” Shuichi muttered. “Wait, are you saying… someone….”

“We’ve already ruled out Kaito, Maki, Kokichi, me, Gonta, Tsumugi, and Miu,” Rantaro said. “That leaves Kiibo, Shuichi, Kirumi, and Kiyo. We know it can’t be Kiyo because he was in the basement.”

“And Kiibo was found in his room,” Tsumugi added. “Only Kirumi and Shuichi were found near the cafeteria, b-but—”

 _“Murderer!”_ Kirumi screamed. _“A horrible, filthy MURDERER!”_

As if to punctuate her words, the maid slammed both fists down on the podium. The movement drew everyone’s attention to her, but it was something else that kept it there.

“Kirumi?” Maki said. “What’s that on your sleeves?”

Slowly, Kirumi straightened and folded her arms around herself again, hiding the spatters of red. “It’s all … your fault,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” Shuichi said. “Kirumi… are you hurt?”

“Was that—” Tsumugi covered her mouth with both hands.

“Was that _blood?”_ Gonta finished for her.

“About time you noticed,” Not Kokichi chuckled.

Kaito’s mouth felt dry. “Then that means….”

“That looks like incrementing evidence to me,” Miu said.

 _“Incriminating,”_ Maki corrected. “And … yes, it does.”

“Does that jog your memory, Shuichi?” Rantaro said quietly. “Do you remember what happened at the cafeteria?”

“At the… the cafeteria?” Shuichi rubbed his temples, wincing. “I… yeah. Kirumi was there. I saw her run out of the cafeteria, and— and then some other people ran into it, and….”

“You’re a disgrace,” Kirumi said. “You should _die.”_

“She… she looked upset,” Shuichi said. “S-so I tried to go after her. I thought I could help….” He raised his head. “Is … is Tenko … _dead?”_

“Kirumi did spend a lot of time in the kitchen and dining hall,” Maki said. “That could explain how she knew her way around enough to take Tenko by surprise.”

“And it would make sense, given her… condition,” Rantaro allowed.

 _Shuichi’s innocent._ Kaito leaned forward on his forearms, chest aching. Shuichi was safe, but he couldn’t even bring himself to feel relieved. How could he consider it a victory when it meant they would still lose one of their friends? The trial was disgusting, the whole _idea_ of this place was disgusting—a hell that forced a bunch of friends to kill and condemn each other to die so _pointlessly_ —How could Monokuma stand there and call this a _game?_

It was wrong, it was sick, it was _so_ _unfair—_

“Kirumi?” Maki prompted. “Is there anything you want to say in your defense?”

Kirumi pulled her hands away from her body again, staring down at the blood on her forearms. “Murderer,” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a filthy murderer.”

Gonta sniffled, worrying at the strap of the bug carrier over his chest. “Then Kirumi really did kill Tenko?”

“That… appears to be the case,” Rantaro said. “Unless anyone has any objections?”

“Maybe we’re still… missing something….” Tsumugi didn’t sound convinced.

Maki shook her head. “She has blood on her clothes, she was at the scene of the crime, and she just confessed. There’s no room for argument here.”

“But Kirumi so _nice!_ She never try to hurt anyone!” Gonta exclaimed. “Kirumi always taking care of us, and cooking nice food, and cleaning up! She never… s-she would never….”

“You’re right,” Kaito cut in. “She would never have done that out of her own free will.”

Not Kokichi tipped his head to the side. “Hmm? What are you saying?”  
“It wasn’t her fault. She only did it because of the Despair Disease messing with her head. It made her do things she never would have done.” Kaito pointed up at the unassuming black and white stuffed bear, sitting on its throne with its usual innocent smile. “So, actually, we should be blaming the one who gave it to her in the first place.”

“Huh? _Moi?”_

“Kaito’s right.” Rantaro folded his arms. “Your precious game was getting boring, so you forced Kirumi to murder Tenko to save your ratings.”

“My, my, are you going to blame me for gas prices next?” Monokuma laughed. “She knew exactly what she was doing! All I did was apply a little motivation.”

“You used her,” Maki snapped. “It wasn’t her fault.”

“Like a puppet,” Kiyo murmured.

“This is wrong,” Shuichi said, desperation breaking through the haze of his fever. “It wasn’t her fault … let her _go.”_

Not Kokichi smirked. “You guys are pathetic. This is how the killing game _works._ You get caught, you get executed. Simple as that.”

_It’s not fair._

“Kirumi _not_ bad person!” Gonta roared. “Monokuma no can kill her!”

“We wouldn’t play your game the way you wanted, so you resorted to mind control,” Rantaro scoffed. “I’m sure your viewers are _really_ happy about that.”

“Rules are rules, pretty boy! What kind of headmaster would I be if I let a murderer walk free in my school?” Monokuma stood up on its miniature throne, waving its gavel as if about to conduct an orchestra. “I take safety in this establishment as seriously as I take punishments! Which is to say… I give them both _everything I’ve got!”_

“You’re sick.” Kaito could feel his fingernails breaking the skin of his palms. “You cheated and you know it! This isn’t a fair game!”

Monokuma clapped its paws together. “It’s punishment ti—eh?”

A feral scream interrupted the bear’s singsong announcement. All heads turned toward Kirumi again, who stumbled away from her podium, turned toward the exit, and ran.

It took everyone a few seconds to process the situation, and another few to react. Shuichi was the first to speak: a hoarse whisper of “Run… Run, Kirumi!”

“Run!” Tsumugi cried, and the courtroom erupted into chaos.

Before Kaito knew it, he and the other students were yelling at the top of their lungs, cheering Kirumi onward. The Ultimate Maid ran with the reckless abandon of a hunted animal, screaming, screaming incessantly, all sense of propriety and dignity left shattered in her wake. She reached the entryway arch of the courtroom and dashed through, passing the two Exisals that stood guard—

_The Exisals._

Immediately, the machines spun to follow her, the enormous cannons mounted to their arms glowing with warning lights—

Kaito couldn’t watch.

He hid his face in the crook of his arm as a deafening series of _cracks_ rang out in the corridor.

The screaming stopped.

_It’s just not fair._

A soft sob broke through the silence. Kiibo pressed his forehead to the podium, his shoulders trembling. Across the courtroom, Gonta buried his face in his hands. “Gonta no could protect Tenko _or_ Kirumi!” he cried.

“W-what the— she didn’t even— they just—” Miu covered her mouth, shaking her head. “She’s— I’m gonna be sick—”

“Another victim,” Rantaro said, bowing his head.

“Only victims I see are the people who had to watch such a lame execution,” Not Kokichi grumbled. “Didn’t even make everyone vote for her…sheesh, what a buzzkill.”

 _“Buzzkill?”_ Monokuma shrilled. “Did you see all that blood? What part of a machine-gun-firing-squad execution is a _buzzkill?”_

“Monokuma,” Kaito said.

“Oh, so kids these days ain’t into guts and gore anymore? What is it you want, then, something lame like a lethal injection? Howzabout I show you a _buzzkill_ and lock you in the fridge until you—”

 _“Monokuma!”_ he yelled. “The trial’s over.”

The bear stopped waving its miniature claws and turned to him. “Whuh? Oh. Yeah, we’re done here. You kids can go.”

“That means the Despair Disease motive is over too,” Kaito said. “It’s over, right?”

“Oh, _that.”_ Monokuma scuffed its feet on the seat of the throne, then hopped down and waddled behind it and out of sight. “Fine, fine, I get it.”

Kiyo blinked and chuckled quietly. “The end is nigh,” he said.

Not Kokichi hummed. “I guess it is,” he said, standing up straighter and stretching his arms above his head. “Well, it’s been fun, guys.”

“Oh? Where do you think you’re going, exactly?” Maki said.

“At a guess? Oblivion.” Not Kokichi shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care. _But,”_ he added, slapping the podium for emphasis, “you guys had _better_ make my death _memorable,_ got it?”

“Found it!” Monokuma called suddenly, reappearing with a cartoonish remote held aloft. A single red button glowed in the center. “Reverting all the infected to normal in…. Three! Two! One!”

Not Kokichi, Kiyo, Shuichi, and Kiibo collapsed without a word.

“What th—oh, crap.” Kaito and Maki were at Shuichi’s side in an instant. “Sidekick? Come on, wake up, man.”

“Shuichi.” Maki patted the side of his face maybe a little too roughly. “Are you in there?”

The detective’s eyelids fluttered. “Ow, what’s… huh? Guys?”

Kaito breathed a sigh of relief and shot a glance over his shoulder, where Rantaro was helping Kiibo to sit up and Kiyo had a palm pressed to his forehead, a grimace on what was visible of his face. “How are you holding up, Shuichi?”

“Ugh… what… happened? Where…?”

A short cry interrupted Kaito’s response. Kokichi had risen to his knees, clutching his head with one hand and clawing at his face with the other as if trying to tear it off. “Get out,” he gasped. “Get out of _my head!”_

Kaito exchanged glances with Maki, then rushed toward the convulsing boy. He had barely closed half the distance between them when Kokichi keeled over again and went still.

“Hey.” He knelt beside him, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up. Are you okay?”

Kokichi jolted back to consciousness and immediately reeled backward. “Get away from me! I—”

He blinked, large violet eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. Kaito saw realization begin to dawn—then Kokichi’s gaze fell on the blood staining his clothes and he froze.

“…Kai—” He coughed, swallowed, and tried again. “Kaito, who did I—”

_Oh._

“Kirumi killed Tenko,” Kaito explained. Too quickly, but maybe that was for the best. “She’s dead now, too. The Despair Disease is over.”

Kokichi drew his legs up to his chest, staring at some point far in the distance. “Tenko … is….”

“Dead,” Kaito repeated quietly. “Kirumi killed her.”

Kokichi just closed his eyes and dropped his forehead onto his knees.

“Um…. Is that true?” came Kiibo’s still slightly quavering voice. “Have we really lost more of our friends?”

“I recall… very little of recent events,” Kiyo said. “Perhaps those privy to the details could make them clear?”

“It’s like Kaito said,” Rantaro intoned. “Kirumi killed Tenko.”

“Some of you were affected by a motive that changed your personalities. You were out of commission for a few days,” Maki added.

Tsumugi sniffed. “What… what should we do now?”

“I think… we should….” Kaito trailed off, suddenly unsure. What did they normally do after a class trial? _Was_ there a normal thing to do? On a whim, he turned to Kokichi, expecting another of the Supreme Leader’s decisive strings of orders.

Instead, Kokichi stood up on unsteady legs and simply… walked away, pausing only to glance at Kirumi’s mangled corpse in the exit hallway.

After a few more beats of silence, Rantaro stood up, too. “We should rest,” he said. “It’s late and we’re all exhausted. We’ll figure things out tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

Shuichi leaned against the door to his room and exhaled slowly. “I think so. I feel like I could sleep for a week,” he added with a humorless smile. It quickly faded. “I just wish I could have been more helpful to everyone.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kaito rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t your fault. Monokuma screwed your head up pretty bad, so don’t blame yourself, all right?”

Shuichi nodded. “Yeah. If you say so.”

“Hey. I mean it.” Kaito prodded Shuichi’s chest. “It was _not your fault._ And I’m not letting you beat yourself up about it. Got that?”

Finally, the flicker of a real smile. “O-okay. You’re right.”

“’Course I am. I’m Kaito Momota! Luminary of the Stars!” His wide grin felt like putting on a coat he hadn’t worn in a while. “I’ll guide my sidekicks through anything! Including whatever weird, gross brain disease that was.”

“Ah. Um, about that.” Shuichi looked down, biting his lip. “Um. Kaito, I… I can only remember bits and pieces of what I did, but … I remember enough to be really embarassed, a-and….”

Kaito chuckled. “You were really out of it, huh.”

Shuichi hid his bright red face in his hands with a whine of discomfort. “I’m so sorry, Kaito,” he groaned. “I didn’t mean to be so—e-everything just seemed like a good idea at the time, and I—”

“Dude, relax.” Kaito clapped his shoulder, still laughing. “It’s no big deal. Just get some rest and feel better.”

Shuichi nodded. “Okay. Yeah. You, too. Good night, Kaito.”

“’Night.”

The door closed, rendering the dormitory courtyard silent once more. Kaito stepped toward the stairs, allowing himself a soft cough and ignoring the way his skull throbbed in response. Shuichi was right; he should rest, too.

But….

His hand lingered on the handle of the door to his room.

Would Kokichi be…?

No, of course Kokichi wouldn’t be resting, who was he kidding? Kaito grumbled and moved toward the other boy’s door instead. _I should at least check on him._

His first knocks went unanswered. Kaito waited a few seconds and tried again. “I can see the light under the door, so you’re definitely in there,” he added.

Something that sounded like a pen smacked against the other side of a door. _“Piss off,”_ Kokichi called.

“Not until you come out here and talk to me.”

No response.

Kaito ground his teeth. “You know I’m going to keep bothering you until you do. Might as well get this over with.”

Kokichi let out an exaggerated groan, and finally, the door cracked open. “What do you want, Jimmy Neutron Star?” Kokichi asked from behind it.

“I want—” Kaito blinked. “Wait. Neutron star?”

“Jimmy.”

“Jimmy Neutron Star.”

“Yep.”

“Uh…why?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“’Cause they’re dumb.”

“Neutron stars are _not dumb!”_ Kaito exploded. “Are you _serious?_ They’re giant clouds of neutrons left over from a supernova, so tightly packed together that they’re the most unbelievably dense—” He stopped when he heard Kokichi snickering, and it took a moment longer for him to realize why. “Oh, you are _such a piece of—”_

“Are we done here yet?” Kokichi chirped, still giggling. “I’ve kind of got stuff to do.”

 _“No,”_ Kaito growled. “I want to talk to you. Come outside.”

“So you can kill me?”

“For the last time….” He paused again, a thought occuring to him. “If you still think I’m about to do that, then it’s you who’s dense.”

The bait worked. Kokichi’s narrowed eye appeared in the gap of the open door. “Excuse me?”

“Being paranoid doesn’t make you smart. _Come outside.”_

Kokichi glowered, but relented, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind him. He’d taken one of the blankets off of his bed to wrap around himself like a cape, and the shadows under his eyes were more prominent than ever. There was a certain hollowness behind them, made more noticeable by the unusual ashen cast of his already-pale face.

“Eeh, Kaito’s staring at me again,” Kokichi whined, brushing past him to sit on the top of the stairs. “So this _is_ a booty call.”

“Shut up.” Kaito sat on the other side of the same stair. “Dude, have you like … eaten anything in the past few days?”

“Maaaybe.”

“Kokichi.”

“Hm. What day is it?”

Kaito raised an eyebrow. “It’ll be Wednesday in about fifteen minutes.”

“’M okay for a bit.”

Kaito scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know how I can make this any clearer to you, but _you need to eat.”_

“The dining hall’s closed, _Mom.”_ Kokichi leaned his head against the wall below the railing.

 _At least there’s no question that the real Kokichi is back,_ Kaito thought, taking a moment to gather whatever patience he could. “So, uh, aside from starving yourself, how are you feeling?”

“So good!” Kokichi spread a wide grin across his face, but it didn’t conceal the tightness in his jaw. “Never been better in my entire life than I am right now. Feel like I could run a marathon and a half.”

Kaito shook his head. “You can just tell me, you know. No, wait—” He waved a hand— “I know, you’re not going to say anything.” _Don’t know why I even bother,_ he added silently.

Kokichi pulled the blanket tighter around himself. “Cold,” he muttered.

“Huh?”

“I feel cold, and … and kind of … I don’t know, violated?” He nibbled at his thumbnail. “I feel like … something really terrible happened to me.”

“That’s….” Kaito trailed off. _Honest. That was honest._

Kokichi didn’t look up. “What did I do?”

“Do? Uh, nothing.”

“Kaito, an entire day is completely missing from my memory. What did I do?”

“You—you don’t remember any of it?”

“Not since you hit me.”

“I didn’t….”

_Oh. I kind of did._

Kaito looked down. “You, uh … kept saying how excited you were to be in the killing game. How it was the opportunity of a lifetime, since we get to kill whoever we want. It was like you were a completely different person.”

Kokichi drummed his fingers on his leg. “So, Psychopath Disease?”

“I’m not sure,” Kaito said. “Most of what you were talking about didn’t make any sense. But I think Rantaro was writing some of it down, if you really want to know.”

The smaller boy went back to biting his nails. “Hm.”

“Unless you’re still hell-bent on trying to do everything yourself,” Kaito added.

“I really did have a plan, you know,” Kokichi mumbled, so quietly that the other barely caught it.

“Oh?” When he didn’t respond, “What, you were gonna start a hunger strike?”

“I wasn’t planning on killing any of you, if that’s what you mean.”

A thread of unease tugged suddenly at Kaito’s stomach. “…What about yoursel—”

 _“Well,_ it’s not like it matters now, does it?” Kokichi said loudly, throwing his arms up behind his head and tossing the blanket off in the process. “The game’s changed yet again, so it’s back to the drawing board for me.”

“If you say so,” Kaito said, but the nagging anxiety didn’t go away. “I just … look, if the game keeps changing, maybe it’s about time you change the way you play it.”

Kokichi frowned at him. “What?”

“I know you weren’t really there for it, but we only got through the class trial because we cooperated with each other,” he continued. “And, yeah, we lost Kirumi and Tenko, but we worked together to save as many people as we could.”

Kokichi scowled. “In case you’ve forgotten, Kirumi _killed_ her, Kaito. This is a game about survival.”

“That doesn’t mean we all have to fight on our own.” Kokichi finally turned to look at him, and Kaito took a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. “I think we were both wrong. I was wrong to trust everybody here, and you were wrong to think that there _isn’t_ anyone here you can trust. How about you and me make a deal?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let us help,” Kaito said. “What you’re doing in there—you’re making plans to end the game, right? Even you can’t do that all by yourself. You need allies.”

“Allies. Like a spaceman, a murderer, and Mr. Anxiety.”

“Or whoever else you feel is the least untrustworthy,” he continued, ignoring the jab. “I don’t know why you were holding back on the whole _supreme leader_ thing, but when you told people what to do, they _listened_. If you can really find a way to end the game, _and_ you let us help you enact it, we’d be unstoppable.”

“You mean, we all hold hands, sing _Kum-ba-yah,_ and tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets?” Kokichi scoffed. “Just because you’re _probably_ not the mastermind doesn’t mean I can trust you.”

“Then maybe I’ll trust you first,” Kaito said. “Can I tell you _my_ secret?”

Kokichi rubbed his eyes. “Can I stop you?”

Kaito sighed deeply, running both hands through his hair. Why was it always so hard to talk to this guy?

“There’s … something wrong with me. With my lungs,” he said at last. “I don’t know what it is, but every day it gets harder to breathe and I’ve started coughing blood. So, that’s why I need to end this game as soon as possible.” He swallowed hard. Just saying those words made it seem so much more real. “There. I think you can tell that was the truth.”

Kokichi didn’t reply.

“How about it? I trust you. A little,” he amended, scratching at the back of his neck. “So, are you going to trust me a little?”

Kokichi chuckled, shaking his head. “You really are crazy. Do you realize you just confessed you have a motive to murder someone?”

“I can barely manage a few push-ups. I’m in no shape to kill anyone even if I wanted to, which I _don’t.”_

“And how exactly is this supposed to convince me of anything?”

“You don’t _have_ to be convinced,” Kaito sighed. “That’s what trust is all about. So, from now on, like it or not—”

“Definitely not.”

“—You’re going to be one of my sidekicks.”

Kokichi stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“We’ll start training again tomorrow night,” Kaito continued. “Be at the courtyard after the nighttime announcement or I’ll be here to drag you there. Got it?”

“No,” Kokichi said flatly.

“Yes,” Kaito countered.

Kokichi’s scowl deepened. “You’re insane.”

“Heard you the first time.” Kaito smirked and stood up, straightening his jacket. “Get some rest tonight, because I won’t take it easy on you.”

Kokichi grumbled something that sounded an awful lot like _purple space lunatic_ and used the railing of the staircase to pull himself to his feet. “Maki and Shuichi aren’t going to like this. It’s going to end horribly.”

“Maki said the same thing,” Kaito said. “Stop being such a pessimist.”

“They hate me.”

“They’re confused by you. That’s not the same thing.” Kokichi didn’t respond, though, and Kaito rolled his eyes. “I think you and Maki Roll would get along surprisingly well if you both actually tried to. And, I can’t speak for Shuichi, but… I’m pretty sure he wants to trust you, too.”

Kokichi’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, then he turned on his heel and stalked back toward his room.

“Just you wait,” Kaito called after him. “I’ll show you that you can trust us. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Kokichi stopped short, gripping the door handle, completely rigid. His expression shifted from annoyance to frustration to something that, for a fraction of a second, looked like desperation, but when he turned back to face Kaito, it had gone completely, unnervingly blank.

“Miu is going to try to kill me,” he said.

A chill raced down Kaito’s spine.

_Honesty. Again._

And for the first time, he _understood._ This was what his offering of help meant to Kokichi. This was trust, even if he’d never call it by the same name.

Slowly, as if too quick of a movement might shatter this strange moment of vulnerability, Kaito nodded his acknowledgment.

As abruptly as a flicked switch, Kokichi’s bright smile was back. “Nighty-night, sweet prince!” he singsonged. “You only bored me half to death. Better luck next time!”

“Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Kokichi was only ever human, Kaito reflected as the door slammed shut and he made his way back to his own room. Despite how hard he’d tried to make everyone believe otherwise, Kokichi could feel the loss of a friend, the uncertainty of being trapped in a deadly game, the fear of having a target on his back. No one should have to go through what they were going through—but especially not alone.

And as Kaito turned off the lights and laid his head down on his pillow, he decided that might be the first thing he and Kokichi had ever agreed on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Skipped the investigation because I’m a coward)  
> And that’s a wrap! This is the longest piece I’ve posted yet, and I had a lot of fun with it. Please tell me what you think worked and how I can do better! Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I was a little nervous to post this, because a) I don’t have any betas and b) horny Shuichi is really hard to write??? and idk if I went overboard or OOC??  
> Shuichi’s Despair Disease symptoms were, of course, originally inspired by Iimogen’s post [here,](https://iimojin.tumblr.com/post/173297688184/a-girl-can-dream) though it ended up changing from “flirtatious” to … well, you remember the aphrodisiac potion thing from the anime? That.  
> One more thing: Kaito’s reaction to Shuichi’s behavior isn’t meant to be homophobic—it’s more of a gut reaction to “my best friend isn’t acting like himself and just propositioned me and I don’t know what to do.” I might be being overly cautious explaining this here, but the last thing I want is to send that message, so....  
> I’ve got three more chapters planned. Expect the next one on the 16th!


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